Friday, February 06, 2009

Husband Olympics . . .

Wednesday night as were were driving home from Hilliard, I told Lynda about an odd discussion I had with a coworker at work that day. It seems that she was writing an educational activity on the United Nations, but she wanted to try and write it in such as way as to spark the interest of the potential student learner. So, she decided to cast her educational discussion in terms of the George Lucas Star Wars universe. She heard (I guess?) from someone (who?) that I "was a Star Wars expert" and wanted my opinion on her "facts."

It seems, she wanted to know whether it was all right/acceptable to make a comparison between the United Nations and the Galactic Senate. I thought about it for a minute (in all seriousness!) and then warned her that it was probably more accurate to make a comparison between the United Nations and the Jedi Knights. 

The Jedi were the main peacekeeping and negotiating arm of the Republic, even thought they were an extralegal body--technically independent of, but working along with the Galactic Senate.

My colleague seemed happy with that answer and went on her way to write other dubious educational activities.

As I related all of this to Lynda later in the day, I questioned the original assumption of the conversation that I was an "expert" at Star Wars. Maybe I had once been an expert in that universe (more on THAT topic later this week . . .) but the bad taste left in my mouth by the prequel movies--as well as the inevitable aging and moving on factor (again . . . later . . .) made me question whether I could properly be seen as expert. (Heck, I don't even watch the Star Wars: Clone Wars animated series with any regularity. 

So, yeah, I knew some stuff, but expert? No.

But, I asked Lynda in that car as I related all of this to her, what WAS I an expert at?

Anything?

We talked about it and agreed that maybe once upon a time I was an expert in Star Trek. I'd watched all of ST: TNG, ST: DS9, ST: Voyager, and even (God help me) ST: Enterprise. I'd seen all the movies. I'd even purchased companion books. But that series was tapped out and the culture had moved on. 

Sure, I was more than familiar with the Tolkien universe. I'd read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings many times. Also The Silmarillion and many of the History of Middle Earth books put forth by his son Christopher. And, I definitely seen all of the Peter Jackson movies--and celebrated them for their truthful rendition of the written story.

Definitely I could be considered an expert (in the local sense, anyway) for Harry Potter or LOST. Yet, it was increasingly clear that I was an expert in NOTHING useful! In an apocalyptic situation, I would be good for nothing.

Then I said, somewhat jokingly, to Lynda, perhaps I could be considered an expert husband? Naturally, I expected her to enthusiastically agree and then we could move on with our lives, but she didn't go there. She begrudgingly accepted that my suggestion might be possible, but it wasn't the ringing endorsement that I had been hoping for.

So I asked her, well, if I'm not an EXPERT would I qualify for the Husband Olympics? She said that oh, yes, I would definitely qualify for that. But she said it a bit too easily, as if I wasn't aiming high enough.

So I asked her if I could get nominated for the Husband Academy Awards?

She easily said NO, I would NOT qualify for that.

After teasing it out of her a bit, it became apparent that I would not get a Husband Oscar nomination because there are only five nominations. It is simply TOO selective and I don't measure up. I don't have the skills or a hope of making such a rarefied cut. But the Husband Olympics, well, that is a lot more forgiving, right? The Olympics let in just about any country that can pay for its own airfare. They welcome participation from everyone . . . all the more to seem inclusive and providing everyone the chance to earn fight for their place at the table.

Diminished in my own expectations of husbandry, I said no more about the entire affair and moved on with the rest of my night.

My only hope of medaling in this husband Olympics, it seems, is if I go up against Jamaica.

2 comments:

Lynda said...

Boy do I come out smelling so not like a rose in that blog entry. My honesty got the best of me that night. Did I try to suggest that I was the perfect wife? No a bit. And let's be clear...I do believe that I have one of the best husbands in the world! Is he perfect? No. Would I want him perfect. Heck no! He'd have never married me if he were! ;-)

David said...

Don't sweat it babe.

I'm not blaming you at all. Honesty is the best policy (until we do develop mind-reading skills). If given the chance, you'd surely report on all of my weekly shortcomings. But you don't have a blog.